


Sally Sweeps Both Ways

by Mystradigans



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 23rd September is Celebrate Bisexuality Day, Anderson Is a Dick, Biphobia, Bisexual Erasure, Bisexuality, F/F, F/M, M/M, This has swearing in it by the way, by Emily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystradigans/pseuds/Mystradigans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because it's Celebrate Bisexuality Day today. </p><p>Sally Donovan is sick of people putting labels on her just because she dates boys and girls. Also there's Mystrade because.. well, who doesn't love Mystrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sally Sweeps Both Ways

**Author's Note:**

> By Emily.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Phil!" I snarled. "If all you wanted was for me to join you and your wife in bed than I've been wasting my time!"

"-Sally" he protested. "I didn't say it would be her, I bet you have loads of hot friends who'd be willing-"

"No. I'm sorry, Phil but I don't know what makes you think I'd want that" I told him, although I did have some clue. "Look, I think this is over"

Anderson huffed, sulked and threw a tantrum but I'd known it was time to end it for a while now; long before he'd casually informed me that he wanted a threesome. It had been clear for months that he wasn't about to leave his wife and, though I'd given him the benefit of the doubt at first, I was getting sick and tired of being his fling on the side. I wasn't upset or hurt by what had happened between Phillip and I, more frustrated for wasting so much time messing around with him and not seeing what the Freak could have deduced instantly- that a significantly large portion of what made me appealing to him was my sexuality.

And it certainly wasn't the first time it had caused me problems.

 

When I got home to my modest flat (after a horrible tube ride where I stood jammed between a woman who was eating cheese and onion crisps and a leering middle aged guy), I was greeted by my cat, Lucifer. I'd named him after Cinderella's stepmother's cat because he hissed so much- Cinderella had always been my favourite film as a little girl. I used to adore the scene where she danced with Prince Charming and dream of the day when my own Prince would sweep me away. As I hit puberty I began to realize that I wasn't particularly fussed whether it was a Prince or a Princess that swept me off my feet, though I had something of an appreciation for a young lady dressed up as Prince Charming. Unfortunately, I had yet to find a Prince/Princess Charming willing to sweep me or indeed be swept, though somewhere in the back of my mind I still believed it was only a matter of time.

I popped a ready meal macaroni cheese in the microwave and settled down in front of the telly with Lucifer to eat it. I sobbed over The Great British Bake Off for a bit (Norman tried sooo hard but Paul and Mary just weren't impressed by his meringue) and then just as I was considering putting on the Eight out of Ten Cats episode I'd recorded, the home phone rang. My mother was the only person who ever dialled the landline so I groaned and stood up to answer it.

"Hi?"

"Sally, hello!" my Mum cheered. "You haven't called me in weeks!"

"Sorry, I've just been busy with work" I said, truthfully.

"Oh, that's a pity. I thought you'd found a man!"

"Or a woman. I could have found a woman" I added, only in my head of course. My Mum was perfectly aware of my bisexuality, just chose to ignore it. It had been that way since I had come out aged 15 and she was still convinced it was a phase.

We chattered for a while about my Dad's neck and how it was giving him grief and Mum told me all about my Aunty Rose's drinking problem with a respectable level of nosiness before I yawned pointedly and said I had to go to bed.

"Alright, night love! Do tell me if you meet a man, darling, I would quite like to be a grandmother by the time I'm 150..."

"Will do, Mum"

And with that she hung up. I sighed and hit play on Eight out of Ten Cats, feeling slightly miffed. It wasn't that my Mum was homophobic- she was fine with Gay People as she put it, she just didn't believe me when I told her I liked girls too- insisting that I didn't know what I wanted and that once I found a Nice Man we'd never have to mention it again. It was fine now, as an independent woman who was (vaguely) sure of herself but as a confused, scared teenager whose entire school thought she was just a slut who was lying about her sexuality for attention, who'd felt pressured to alternate evenly between dating boys and girls to prove herself, it had stung like hell not to have her support.

I ended up falling asleep in front of the TV and woke up several hours later to the alarm I'd set on my mobile. Shoving a cereal bar down my throat, I hastily got ready for work, getting to the yard a couple of minutes late. We managed to go a full day without needing Sherlo- the freak- and I spent the whole time quietly fuming- which, it turned out, I hadn't been as subtle in as I'd thought.

Greg cornered me once we'd finished. "What's wrong?"

"I broke it off with Phil" I told him.

"Good for you. Finally see the light?"

I chuckled- Greg didn't approve of me and Anderson but he wisely kept his mouth shut on most occasions. "He wanted a threesome and didn't take it very well when I said no"

"Ohh, Sal that's rubbish" he winced.

"It's alright, you can say you told me so"

"Well, yeah I did. Are you alright?"

"Fine. I'm mainly in a bad mood 'cos I spoke to my Mum straight afterwards"

"Uh-oh" said Greg with a grin. "What did she have to say?"

"Ooh, Sally darling, where's your boyfriend? Don't tell me you still like girls now, darling, you don't have to do this anymore- be sensible, now" I said, making my voice go higher and waving my hands around in a rather abstract impression of my mother.

Greg laughed and said "Look, do you wanna get coffee or something? There's someone I'd like you to meet"

"Sure" I smiled.

We headed to a Cafe Nero close to New Scotland Yard and got in line to order.

"Yep. Yeah, I'll do a cappuccino and a blueberry muffin. Cheers" said Greg and turned expectantly to me.

"Er, a cappuccino and.. Oh gosh, should I have a slice of carrot cake or one of those chocolate cupcakes?" I asked. "Um.. I don't know. Greg, I don't know. Which one should I have? Greg? I like both of them! I can't choose! Greg?!"

"... I can't believe you got pissed at that girl you met a few weeks ago for calling you indecisive" Greg sighed.

"That was different! She was talking about sex! This is cake!"

"Why can't you just have both?"

"Exactly!" I said triumphantly. "That's what I said to her. I said, 'I don't have a choice who I'm attracted to any more than you do and I don't have to pick between straight and gay just because you think all bisexuals are indecisive!'"

The kid at the till gave me a weird look.

"...No, I meant the cake" said Greg.

"Oh."

 

In the end I just chose a blueberry muffin like Greg's and we sat down to eat.

"So who's this you wanted me to meet?" I asked with my mouth full.

"Well.. I'm seeing someone" Greg told me, smiling proudly.

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "Does this person have a name?"

"He's called Mycroft"

"Mycroft, huh? He's a guy then?" I'd known Greg was bisexual like me for years now (despite pretty much everyone repeatedly telling him that he was gay and just couldn't admit it) but he tended to date women more often, so this Mycroft must be special.

"Yup. He's taking me to this museum thing this afternoon, if his work doesn't intervene anyway, so you can meet him. He's got a nice young assistant too- you'd love her"

"Don't set me up, Greg" I groaned. He was always doing this and I always refused to date the people he suggested on principle. I still believed in good old fashioned love, where you bumped into a beautiful woman or man with no idea who they were and asked them out manually- none of this online or friend-of-a-friend business.

"I won't, don't worry" he promised.

"Fine. Tell me about Mycroft then"

"Well.. He's tall and pale and ginger and he has this really posh accent. He's shy and insecure and really sweet.."

"I swear I've heard that name before.. Mycroft..."

"Nope. I can't imagine you have. At all" said Greg nervously.

"Sherlock mentioned him! He's the freak's.. brother? Greg, are you seriously dating the freak's brother?"

"Shut up!" Greg defended. "He's nothing like Sherlock. I.. I really like him, Sally"

I sighed. "If you're sure-"

"I am, Sal"

"Then I'm happy for you. Of course I'll meet him"

"Yay!" celebrated Greg triumphantly. "That's good because I imagine that formal looking black car outside is him"

We got up hurriedly and crossed over to the car. The door opened and a black, shiny shoe emerged from it. The shoe was followed in due course by a pinstriped-trouser-clothed leg and I raised my eyebrows at how melodramatic this all was (I could almost hear the orchestral music) but, after catching Greg's expression, I lowered it again.

"Ah. Greg. I- um"

Mycroft's face poked out of the car and Greg blushed when I caught his little smile.

"Hey, you" Greg said fondly. He was acting soppy as hell and, strange as his new man may be, I was happy for him.

"We're walking to the exhibit, if you don't mind" Mycroft said. "Miss Donovan, perhaps you might allow my assistant to drive you home"

So Greg had told his new boyfriend to help set me up. Annoyed though I was, a lift was a lift and it'd be nice not to have to get the tube. It wasn't as if I even had to speak to the woman, so I nodded and Mycroft tapped on the window of the car, giving instructions and my address to his driver. I didn't question how he knew where I lived, sensing that I probably didn't want to know.

I opened the door and got in as the car began to move. Mycroft's assistant was facing away from me, BlackBerry in hand so I checked out the back of her head. She was slim and wore a tight black dress. She had long, shiny dark hair down her back and I just hoped that her face was consistent with the rest of her.

"...Hi?" I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up a little.

"Hi." said my carmate. Her voice was rich and a bit sexy.

"I-I'm Sally" I said, all outrage at being set up forgotten. It's funny how being around beautiful people makes your brain stop working. I'm fairly certain that's why I never made it as a super-spy: I'd be completely distracted by every attractive man or woman I encountered. If James Bond had liked guys as well, he'd probably have been shot years ago.

Mycroft's assistant turned off her phone and put it in her pocket. "You can call me Anthea." She turned around to face me.

Oh. Oh. Ohh. Anthea's eyes were big and brown and her eyebrows were in better shape than her boss's, which was saying something. Her lips were big and full and I couldn't quite take my eyes off them.

"Sally?" she said pointedly.

"Uhh..."

"You know, you're really quite pretty. Are you gay?" she asked, and I jolted in shock, then excitement. Was this gorgeous woman interested in me?

And then of course, came the fall back to earth as I realised what she'd said. Although I wanted to say yes, I wasn't a lesbian, much as I thought being one might make situations like this one less awkward. "Um.. I'm bi" I said reluctantly and waited sadly for the standard "Oh, that's a shame. Sorry, I only date girls who are fully gay" or even a "Well, call me when you pick a side".

"Would you like to have dinner tomorrow night?"

What?

"I.. um.. are you sure?" I stuttered. Of course, there were girls who were fine with dating bisexuals but in general, prospective romantic partners didn't exactly see it as a turn on. Unless they were men envisioning threesomes, like Anderson.

"Yes" Anthea said shortly. "Shall I pick you up at 8?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great" I said with a broad smile. I just hoped Anthea was willing to sweep. Or to be swept.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that. I think the moral of the story is that the next time you watch a bit of Doctor Who and you can't concentrate because you're too busy staring at David Tennant or Billie Piper, spare a thought for those people who sweep in more than one direction.


End file.
